


Raw Power

by orphan_account



Category: Legend of the Seeker, The Sword of Truth - Terry Goodkind
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-11-12
Packaged: 2018-02-24 22:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2598926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The daughter of Richard and Kahlan Rahl (Richard Cypher and Kahlan Amnell), Katrina Caralin Rahl takes on a new life as she comes of age, learning to handle the responsibilities of Confession, Sorcery, and Mord Sith.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

His hand crept up around my neck and pulled my face closer to his. I felt all reality slip away, felt my grasp on my power loosen as his sweet breath brushed against my lips. What was I thinking? I can't let myself love this boy. And in the name of the creator, I can't kiss him! I could barely hold on to my power as it is...and our lips were still inches apart. If we kiss...I might confess him. If I confess him, he won't be my Andrew anymore. He'll be empty of his free will. He'll only want one thing; to serve me. And that's the last thing I want.

Seconds before our lips met, my eyes flashed open in panic. I seized control of my power, grasping it tight, refusing to allow it to escape my grasp. Over the shoulder of the boy I loved, I saw a black figure riding towards us. A blond, dressed in all black, mounted upon a black horse, holding a dacra in one hand and her steed's reigns in the other. Nikki.

I jumped up in half a heartbeat and swung a leg over Shamrock's back, settling quickly into the well worn saddle. Andrew looked at me questioningly. "What's wrong," he asked.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course," he answered, as if the question was completely redundant.

"Then come on," I responded, extending a hand to him. He took it, cautiously, and I pulled him up into the saddle with me. "Take the reigns, but don't try to lead him. He knows where he's going," I commanded. Andrew obeyed, wrapping both arms around me to take the reigns. I used his arms as support to turn around and face him...and our pursuer. Releasing my grip on him, I lifted the skirt of my pale pink dress enough to loop my legs around his as a brace.

"You do realize we're on a moving horse, correct?" I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck just long enough to remove a dagger from my sleeve. "What in the name of Lord Rahl..." he started when his eyes caught the dagger.

I shuddered at the sound of my father's official title. Lord Rahl. It just sounded so...not him. "Trust me," I reminded my love. He nodded once, but held the reins tight in one hand, my waist even tighter in the other. I drew my hand back, then flung it forward, releasing the dagger towards our pursuer.

The dagger barely nicked the hand holding her dacra. I didn't even blink as she threw the short metal rod, the sharpened point heading straight towards us. I had time to throw another dagger before the dacra caught up to us. I flung my arm out to deflect the weapon from it's target: Andrew's neck. Thankfully, the sharp point didn't pierce my skin.

Three more dacra headed towards us, but we crossed the boundary just in time. The deadly weapons bounced off the magic border and fell to the ground useless. I heard Nikki scream a stream of curses at us in the ancient language of magic and was glad she didn't know I understood every word.

Shamrock continued full speed to the castle steps, a sweat breaking out on the horse's dark, reddish brown shoulders. He flicked his black tail, slowing to a trot as I slid off his back, pulling Andrew with me and tossing the reigns to a stable hand who had met us there. A single flick of my hand told the herald not to announce my arrival.

"Constance," I ordered upon seeing the Mord-Sith garbed in her day to day brown leather. "Find Mistress Cara. Inform her of a code black. The one with power approaches." Constance nodded once, a grave look crossing her otherwise old, yet still beautiful features.

"Andrew, stay here," I said, placing a hand on his chest before walking into the throne room. He didn't argue. I'm assuming he was more than confused by now. Up until a few moments ago, he thought I was a merchant’s daughter; living comfortably, but not ravishingly. I gently pushed open the doors to the throne room just enough to slip in.

"Katrina Caralin Rahl. Where in the name of the creator have you been?" My father yelled as I entered the throne room. I shuddered at my full name. Not that I didn't like it. In fact, I loved it. Except for the Rahl part. Katrina was the name of a great confessor somewhere along the way, and Caralin is Mistress Cara's full name. Rahl...I was unfortunately stuck with. Not my fault my grandfather raped my grandmother and created my father: Richard Rahl.

"I've been busy," I snapped. The last thing my father needed to know was what exactly I'd been doing in town.

"Richard. Take your hand off the sword," my mother, the Mother Confessor, Kahlan advised him. My father looked down at his tight grasp on the Sword of Truth. I could see the anger of the sword reflected in his eyes. A look I knew to lead to many problems.

"Father," I started. He released his grip on the sword and faced me, the anger ebbing from his expression. "It doesn't matter what I was doing in town. All that matters is that Nikki found me. She tried to kill me. I crossed the boundary before she could. She's coming after Mom." The anger flashed through his eyes again. Someone was coming after his Kahlan. And anyone who threatened her would be killed before the threats could be carried out.

"I just got the message," a familiar voice said from behind us. A blond with a sharp nose and an even sharper tongue entered, dressed from head to toe in red leather. Red was only worn during wars or training. And my training had been completed two weeks ago.

"Cara! Thank the creator! I want your best Mord-Sith guarding Kahlan at all times until Nikki is taken care of," my father commanded.

"Yes, Lord Rahl," Cara answered. "Richard, can I speak with you?" This was the other side of Cara. She'd known Richard personally before she'd known him as Lord Rahl. He was a friend. My father stepped down from his throne to stand before the Mord-Sith.

"Cara, is Jenson safe?" The first words out of my father's mouth. Jenson is father's sister. A particularly ungifted girl. Magic has absolutely no effect on her.

"She is in the care of our best healers being nursed back to health as we speak," Cara answered.

"Thank you, Cara." My father pulled the Mord-Sith into a hug. Mord-Sith don't get hugs. Mord-Sith don't like hugs. Mord-Sith are too tough for hugs. So as a result, my father got an agiel to the stomach.

"Don't hug me," she snapped. Remember what I said about the sharp tongue?

"Hello? As worried as I'm sure we all are about Jenson, don't we have a slightly larger problem on our hands? Nikki is an extremely powerful sorceress. If, and when, she breaks through the boundary, what are we gonna do?" I drew the attention back to the main issue.


	2. Chapter 2

"There isn't much we can do until Nikki breaks through the boundary. It'd be extremely stupid to send a battalion of Mord-Sith after one woman before she becomes an eminent threat." Was my father, the Seeker of Truth, really being this ignorant?

"She's already an eminent threat, father. She attacked me. With a Dacra! I could be dead. I would be if I hadn't have been careful in how I deflected the weapon. Even still it almost pierced me.

"This wouldn't be a problem if you wouldn't have been in town, now would it?"

"Richard," Kahlan started, warningly. "Let her be. Whatever her reason for being in town, I'm sure it was important and we don't need to know."

"My daughter was almost killed!"

"Our daughter, Richard. And she can handle herself. She carries three daggers, and an agiel with her everywhere, and she wields the powers of confession and sorcery. Just calm down, okay?" My mothers voice seemed to sooth him, calming the anger rising up inside my father.

"Don't go into town without my permission again, do you understand, Katrina?"

"Wait," Andrew interrupted. "It's my fault. I'm the reason she was in town. Blame me."

"Andrew! I told you to stay back there." Upon hearing my panic, Cara wrapped an arm around Andrew's waist, holding her agiel inches from his neck. "Cara, let him go." She released him, but didn't relax her defensive stance. Mord-Sith rarely let their guard down.

"Who's this?" my father asked.

"Umm...this is Andrew." My mother looked at him, or rather into him. Into his heart. Something I'd done myself a hundred times. That's how I knew I loved him. That's how I knew confession would completely ruin him. Just by looking into his heart, my mother knew that he loved me and that he was protecting me. Exactly what I saw. I thought to myself if she saw what I saw the first time I looked at him. I saw someone who was broken. And he still was. Not so much anymore, but not all breaks could be repaired. Especially not heartbreak. Not one like he'd suffered.

"Hello, Andrew," my mother said pleasantly. Thats the one thing I loved most about my mother. She's always been kind and sweet. Except in battle. Confessors are lethal in battle, even before they unleash their power.

Andrew bowed. "Hello, your majesty," he said respectfully.

"Andrew, these are my parents," I said taking a deep breath both before and after I said that.

"You don't have to call me that, Andrew. Kahlan is just fine," my mother said in her ever sweet voice. Her beautiful green eyes shimmered kindly.

Andrew just nodded. He seemed uncomfortable. "What's wrong?" I whispered to him.

 "Amelia," he said quietly. That's right. His sister was still at Chloe's. I nodded.

"Constance," I snapped. "Take him to cell 313 to wait for me. I'll go change into my leather and meet you there." Constance nodded and took Andrew by the arm.

"Cell?" he asked me, panic shining in his eyes.

"Trust me," I reminded him.. He nodded and allowed Constance to lead him to the Mord-Sith temple. "Cara," I began. She snapped to attention. We had an awkward professional relationship. I was basically the princess, so she obeyed me. But she was also my mistress in the Mord-Sith sense, so I obeyed her. But we somehow made it work. "I'm going to get Amelia from Chloe. I'll be back at the temple in an hour." She nodded.

I unlocked my room with the small key around my neck. The large golden doors swung open silently. I looked around the room. Where was my leather? I finally found it under my bed? Why there? Nobody looks under my bed for anything. They're afraid something might bite. Occasionally, my pet cat, Velvet, has.

Pants, shirt, neck piece, waist belt, leg agiel holster, boots, gloves, braid. And it took all of thirty minutes to put myself together. I looked my image up and down in the full length mirror. Well, I looked like a Mord-Sith. I still have no idea how Cara puts her leather on in five minutes.

I grabbed my agiel from the top of the dresser and slid the gold chain onto my wrist. The lethal leather rod dangled from the chain, my own blood stains glinting in the light. It was tradition for Mord-Sith to use the agiel they were trained with so they would know the pain they inflicted on those they wielded their agiel against.

I needed to go. Any later and Chloe would come looking for Andrew. And she'd find me. And I really didn't need her asking me questions, as much as I loved the brunette.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the innocence of young children...

"Hook Shamrock and Serenade up to the carriage. I'm going to town," I ordered the stable hand. He nodded then turned to harness the two magnificent horses. I climbed up to the bench of the simple wooden wagon and nudged the two red-brown Mord-Sith horses forward.

I found my free hand on my agiel as I crossed the boundary. Thankfully, there was no Nikki in sight. But I couldn't be sure how long that would last. I was dimly aware of the shock of pain that ran up my arm as I held the agiel. That's the thing. An agiel brings as much pain to it's wielder as it does to it's victim. Mord-Sith have to be trained, or tortured, with the agiel so they know how to handle the pain it brings.

It only took about fifteen minutes to get to Chloe's house in the center of town, but that was fifteen minutes too many for me. Amelia ran up to me the second I hopped off the wagon. I picked up the tiny seven year old and swung her around in a circle, setting her in the back of the wagon. She looked me up and down, then as if just noticing the leather, began to back away from me.

"Listen to me, Mia. We're going to get your things and take you to where you'll be safe. Andrew is already there, waiting for us. Is that okay with you?" She nodded timidly. "Alright. Come on. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Wait," Chloe called. "I'm coming too. It's time for me to start my training. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Absolutely. You're my best friend, Kat. If you're in trouble, I want to be able to help." Chloe's deep tanned face was shadowed with concern. 

"Alright. Come on. I'll look to see if Cara can train you." She nodded and hopped up into the wagon behind Amelia, holding her gently around the waist.

I pushed the horses at full speed to Andrew's house on the outskirts of town. The further from the castle and the boundary we got, the more anxious I grew. I was constantly alert for Nikki to jump out of nowhere and attack. The only reason I'd worn my leather was because I knew Nikki was less likely to attack a Mord-Sith, as we can turn her magic against her.

Within twenty minutes, Chloe and I loaded Amelia and Andrew's things into the back of the wagon. I took a final glance at the small log cabin. The now empty structure had served as a home for Andrew and Amelia for the past three years since their parents' death in a fire.

"Where are we going?" Amelia asked innocently.

"To the People's Palace. You're coming to live with me," I said simply.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice quivering slightly.

I took a deep breath. "Mia, come here," I said, lightly patting the bench next to me. She settled down, trying hard to keep some space between us. I could admit, the leather scared even me. Especially the red. Although the white leather always scared me more because of it's meaning. "You're afraid I'm going to hurt you, to try to train you," I said softly. She nodded. "I'm not going to hurt you, Mia. I, the duchess of D'Hara, swear I'm not going to lay a hand on you in any aggressive manner. Okay?" She nodded again.

"You're daddy is Lord Rahl?" She asked in her sweet, tiny voice.

"Yes, dear," I said, a smile playing at my lips.

"And your mommy is the woman in white?" Fear quavered in her voice.

I took a deep breath. "Yes, she is." Only the Mother Confessor wore a white dress. Confessors were both feared and respected for their great power. Most people feared their touch. The power of Confession was carried by blood. So because my mother is a Confessor, I am also one. And Amelia just figured this out.

"Is she nice?"

I smiled a bit. "Yes, she is. And greatly loved by the people of D'Hara. In her's and my father's reign, she has proven that she will bring no harm to the people. There's something you have to understand about Confessors. We don't like having to confess people. Those who give themselves up for confession to prove their innocence we already know they're innocent.

"Have you ever confessed someone?"

"Yes. Would you like to hear their stories?" She nodded.

"The first was a man named Balthazar. He was on trial for murder in my father's hometown, Heartland in the Westlands. He requested confession to prove his innocence.   
Do you know of a dragon by the name of Scarlet?"

"She's the one Lord Rahl helped get her egg back, right?" Amelia asked. 

"Yes. Because of my father's generosity, she and her son remain willingly loyal to the ruling family of D'Hara. Her son, Gregory, carried me to Heartland where I confessed him. The second I looked into his eyes I knew, without a doubt, that he was innocent. But a Confessor's word isn't enough. The people of Westland needed him confessed. 

Because when a person is confessed, they will do whatever she asks." I took a deep breath. "After his confession, a sorceress whom I was traveling with, turned Balthazar into a lion. That's the sort of thing we always do to those who give themselves up to confession because the form of an animal tempers the extreme power of confession on a person. You can meet him, if you want. He stays with me in the People's Palace." 

"Is he a nice lion?" Amelia asked. 

"Yes. And I'm sure he would enjoy playing with you if you ask nicely. He's never even tried to harm a person in his life. He does, however, serve as the palace's pest control," I said jokingly, thinking of all the rodents he's rid the kitchens of. Murial, the head chef, has always been thankful for his assistance.  
Amelia giggled at the thought of a lion chasing rats all over the castle. "What about the others?" she asked.

"The second was a man named Quinten. He was a member of a raid on the palace. I confessed him in battle, and he died shortly afterwards. I was only able to find out his name from one of his comrades who eventually surrendered. I wish it would have worked out differently, but battle is a horrid event, and some of the choices made there are the safety of the people, even if it means taking the life of your enemies." I winced slightly.

"Oh," Amelia whispered.

"I'm sorry sweetie," I said.

"It's okay," she said, gently stroking my leather clad shoulder. It was amazing how fast this little girl got over the terrifying sight of the red leather. Maybe it was because she knew the person under the leather. "What about the last one?" she asked.

I closed my eyes tight for a moment, letting the horses take over the steering as we crossed the boundary. "The third was a Mord-Sith named Caroline. She refused to abide by my father's changes to the Mord-Sith training. She saw no point to the changes, and continued by the old Mord-Sith way. As a result, she was executed. Confession, for a Mord-Sith, provides the most painful death. The pure love of confession destroys the ruthless magic that makes up a Mord-Sith. Confession is the most dishonorable death a Mord-Sith can be given."

"So you...killed her?"

"Yes," I said, my face hardening to the expressionless features of a Confessor.

"Because she didn't follow Lord Rahl's commands?"

"No, sweetie. I killed her because she was kidnapping little girls like you and torturing them. Turning them into Mord-Sith. The changes my father made was that a girl would have to choose to become a Mord-Sith. And even then, she had to be thirteen and have the blessing of her parents. The other change was that a Mord-Sith did not have to be an only child, and her parents would be unharmed in her training. Instead of having to torture her father, a final task was forged to match the girls personality. I still have not completed my final task."

"What was your final task?" Amelia's features were highlighted with curiosity.

"To be able to control my power as a Confessor in any situation...including love. So in other words, to be able to love your brother. Really, it comes down to overcoming the fear of confessing him, but it's more than that. Because my training was so critical, Cara believes I should be able to use my powers as a Mord-Sith to control the impulse of Sorcery and Confession."

"So she wants you to be able to...be tame?"

"That's one way to put it, yes," I responded.

"I think you're tame," Amelia said, wrapping her arms around my neck. I laughed lightly and kissed the top of her head as the horses came to a stop outside the Mord-Sith temple.

"Come on, sweetie," I said, picking her up and holding her carefully on my hip. "Constance, Arianna. Come unload the wagon, please." The two Mord-Sith hurried out, dressed in full red leather. "Take Amelia's things up to the quarters next to mine in the palace. The rest of the things go in my cell."

"Yes, Katrina," they responded in unison.   
I carried Amelia down the dark corridor to my cell, cell 313. The door was cracked open, and two Mord-Sith stood posted on either side of the entrance. Andrew sat on the large bed in the center of the cell which had been transformed into a comfortable sleeping chamber, just like all of the cells on this hall.

"Cecile, Marina, take Chloe to Cara to begin her training," I ordered. The two Mord-Sith stationed outside the cell nodded and led the brunette down the hall to the training chambers.

As soon as I was in the cell, I set Amelia down. She instantly ran to Andrew, jumping into his arms. Andrew hugged her back just as fiercely. I couldn't help but fall in love with him even more when I saw him with his sister. He was always so sweet with her.

"Thank you," Andrew mouthed over Amelia's shoulder at me. I nodded.

"Mia," I started. The little girl shifted in her brother's arms to face me. "How would you like to come with me to find Balthazar?"  
The little girl giggled and nodded.

"Balthazar?" Andrew asked.

"I'll explain on the way," I said, linking my arm in his free one. 

"First, why exactly are you wearing leather?"

"I'm a Mord-Sith. And a Confessor. And a Witch Woman."

"Oh?"

"Not like I had a choice," I said grimly.

"Yeah," he sighed. 

I led him back to the palace through the underground passageways, stopping in the kitchen for a slice of lemon cake for Amelia.


End file.
